Aged Advice
by show.me.how
Summary: Six Years of a new life. Nine weeks of Joel. 8 days to change it all.


Disclaimer: clearly i dont own twilight or its charaters. Lucky SMeyer..must be nice owning all those built tan boys from La Push.

She hated coffee stains and what they meant. That wasn't who she was-she wasn't even sure if she liked coffee or the way it was seeming to replace her blood cells. Yet here she sat, fresh pot, old papers, ratty sweats, bedroom floor. She didn't like working in the bedroom, it was hers, her safe haven-it had the power to put her back in Forks, gazing into topaz eyes, holding warm hands-then it would bring her back again wrap her in down patches of comfort and assure her everything would be ok.

Given her recent unplanned 'vacation' she was behind, it had been almost two weeks and she was still behind. She had started working as soon as she crossed into her apartment. It was a necessity-if for nothing else then to occupy her mind. Somehow everyone had been expecting this-she hated that they knew before she did, but it seemed like that was a popular pattern in her life.

She remembers that morning it happened, she woke up, fed Jane, forgetting she wasn't there anymore and got ready. She took her usual luke warm shower-once afraid of the memories that turning the dial to either the left of the right of where it sat would bring-now it was just a habit. She took a cab and shuffled through her papers in the back, expecting the long ride, most of it immobile. He had been picking her up every morning for the past two months. His name was Joel, at least that's what he preferred, she was pretty sure his license sitting on the dash had one of those eleven letter names that she never would have been able to say correctly.

She was just nice at first; he seemed sane enough so she continued their conversations. Then she began to look forward to them, replay them in her mind while she cooked and worked and regardless that he always said "see you tomorrow sweetie" She would stand under the overhang clutching her bag unsuccessfully ignoring her racing heart until she saw it, number thirty two, pull up to the curb with a "morning sweetie" and a wide smile.

There were people at work she went for drinks with every now and then and a few friends she had met through her writing, but their conversations never reached beyond writing and work, or drunken unfiltered comments at the bar that she would pretend she didn't hear. She liked not having an attachment, knowing she could leave and beyond her readers no one would really care.

He was different though, knew when she just wanted to ride, could pick out the song to match her mood, and never pushed the conversation when she was distant. He himself was far away sometimes, when he answered questions with single words and short sentences she knew to watch the window instead of his eyes. She was drawn to him, enjoying the way he was blunt not sparing feelings, how he was quick to move past the generic conversation of work and hobbies. He deepened the relationship and she dove in, relishing in the half hour they spent together five times a week.

Like most people she was still guarded, kept things from him, but only because she was keeping them from herself as well, everything else he knew everything else she was unafraid to tell him. And he was the same way with her, she didnt know his last name, she didnt have his number, she had no idea where he lived but she knew he preferred winters on the beach and summers in the mountains, she knew how his eyes darkened and went from blue to deep hazel when he was upset, she laughed at his hidden obsession with everything transformers, and she could tell you every detail about Delaney Porte.

She was shorter than average but her personality bursted from within, towering over and enveloping those around her, at least that was how Joel had described her. She wasn't his first love, but she was his only love. When she asked him what he meant by this he just laughed and replied "i hope you find out one day". He explained how Delaney had left after two years, granted they had only technically dated for a few months but according to Joel they had been together ever since they stopped hating each other-which was about a month after they met.

She had never honestly told anyone how life had brought her to where she was, but when Joel asked she explained. Well supernatural draws and powers aside she went into more depth of her story than she let herself when her mind wandered to Forks Washington. He didn't ask too many questions, the ones that she would have had to politely ignore when asked, because he knew all to well how some things just couldn't be explained when it came to love and leaving. They spent a week confiding in each other, she was glad the rides were short enough to escape the tears that undoubtedly came with a certain depth and a timer.

They could have, but they never brought it up again-both understood the pain and regret that burned beneath old wounds. They talked about books, Joel didn't read much so she tried to ignore the doubt that seeped into her mind when he commented on Romeo and Juliet "just two stupid kids if you ask me" he told her, not noting her scowl in the mirror "overcome with hormones and whatnot, and then they both died. I just don't get what's so great about that" she tried to argue "it was for love, they died for each other" he laughed "it was for themselves more so though wasn't it" it wasn't really a question "i mean its not really dieing for someone if the other ones already dead, its pretty selfish if you ask me-now you want a real love story" he started with renewed enthusiasm, she rolled her eyes awaiting his undoubtedly absurd response. "Rocky-now thats a good one." she giggled until he shot her a 'what the heck are you laughing at I'm serious' kind of look. "you have got to be kidding, Rocky? that's not a love story"

He hmmfpd. "Got more passion and devotion that any relationship i ever seen" she was taken aback at the truth in his justification. They spent the next few days arguing over movies and convincing each other to try their favorites. The morning after she watched Fight Club, upon his request, she unintentionally rearranged their friendship-he already knew about her past so she wasnt worried about containing her thoughts around him, until she realized she had blurted one out.

An uncomfortable silence filled the air and she held her breath

_'oh god did i just say that out loud' she thought 'i still feed my dead cat-great Bella, real great im sure he'll be so eager to pick you up every day now'_

his reply was late and his darkened eyes gave proof that his thoughts were else where

"weird"

"comforting" she retaliated before she could stop herself

"sure" it was questioning

"its habit, i know shes not there, but i don't like to acknowledge her absence-i don't need a daily reminder of it"

"what happens to the food" he sounded curious, she wondered why he hadn't pulled over and let her out yet

"I put it up at night then re put it out in the morning" she noticed the scrunch of his nose "hey, don't give me that look" she defended herself "I don't have money to be wasting on a dead cat"

he chuckled

"how longs it been?"

"few weeks now"

he laughed "well hell, if she wasn't dead before she sure got to be now-eating that stale shit-you trying to choke her?"

It wasnt a nervous laugh, he was telling her it was okay.

"yeah-this is too weird isnt it?"

"yep, youre pretty much a freak" it was lighthearted, no malice or nerves in his statement, but it didn't prevent the next ten minutes from an awkward silence.

he dropped her off and she didn't find her usual comfort when he said "tomorrow sweetie"

She waited the next morning after convincing herself that he wouldn't abandon her just because she had one little freakish habit but after waiting five extra minutes-he was never late-she reached for another handle.

"Hey-what you think you're doing" she heard a familiar voice shout two cars down. She slid in with shaky legs.

"sorry, i didn't think you were coming" her voice was quiet, she didn't want to remind him of why he might want to leave her behind.

"Have a little patience woman" his tone was normal, his smile was teasing. "I had an old lady, friendly enough but couldnt remember where she was going."

"where'd she end up?'

"Strangely enough-she wanted off at some 24 hour bar-but it looked like she was headed to the alley behind it-i was gonna stay, but i was already behind getting you. Crazy lady that one-kinda like how i imagine you in 50 years" he chuckled at this thought, throwing them into the stream of honks and screeching rubber, moving slower than usual.

She ignored his comment

"what!? are you crazy-you let her off at a bar? she probably had Alzheimer's or hemorrhoids or something"

"really Bell-hemorrhoids?

"Joel!"

"relax i was kidding she got out at the market on 4th-did take her a while to remember where she was going though"

"Hemorrhoids-you really are crazy Bell"

She relaxed, they were back to joking, but something still felt different like he wasnt all there, most of the ride was silent till he broke her thoughts

"i talk to my grandfather everyday-was my best friend since i was a little boy. Used to sneak me those hard candies that come outta a tin can. we both loved the yellow ones-been four years since he died and i still wont eat those ones. I got a cabinet at home full of tin cans with yellow candies-i know he aint coming back but its like im saving them for em i guess." She was shocked and didn't know to apologize for his loss or comment on his quirk but she was once again saved by his voice.

"I slept on his grave one night bout a month after he passed, never told anyone that. anyways, i have a picture of me and him at my brothers wedding six years ago-right before he started getting sick. sits in my bedroom-and i talk to him-to it-but to him really. there never was anything i wouldn't tell him and there still isn't. I like to imagine what he would say with his dry humor-but i never can get it quit right-i reckon thats cause he always knew exactly what i needed and i never did." he took another breath and half smiled at her in the mirror

"well thats it i guess. you're not the only crazy one huh? sorry bout yesterday-when you first said it i mean, it wasnt you i was just thinking bout pop. "

They pondered their thoughts for the rest of the ride, neither ready to talk. She was startled when he spoke up, she hadn't realized they had arrived.

"see ya tomorrow sweetie"

She waved and moved toward her building.

"hey Bell!" she turned at the sound of laughter in his voice, for just a second it reminded her of someone else.

"you don't still have that cat do you"

She laughed, shrugged her shoulders and went to work.

Realization struck when he wasn't there the next day. She went straight to her boss, a mixture of old fears and tears with a newfound determination swam in her eyes. Her talent made him hesitate but it was also what caused him to let her go-he knew she would catch up and she deserved it.

"You have one week"

Manners and politeness, along with the rest of who she was and what she had once known, was now clouded with questions about the future, apprehensions about reactions of those she loved the most. She didn't say thank you, she left without a word-walked an hour and a half to her apartment and left thirty minutes later a small bag over her shoulder and swollen but dry eyes guiding her, attempting to see what was ahead.

She had a quiet car now, she had bought it two years earlier when her career was showing promise, the city was too busy she was too frazzled to drive in it, after the first day she decided to save it for trips out of the city-which she rarely took. So there she was, her silent arrival gave him no knowledge of her appearance, she waited outside of the place that she had once called home-a place she had loved and left, just like the person in it.

She closed her eyes at that thought, it wasn't fair, not to him, he had been left before and now she had unburied and doubled his pain. She wondered if it could still be home, if she should knock or walk in like she was tempted to do. He didn't know she was there, twenty feet away-behind an old wooden door painted over with six years of too short too distanced phone calls, six years of failed attempts and forgotten visits, six years of birthdays and holidays of excuses and lies-six years that she should have been there for, six years that she wasn't.

She knocked-only because she didn't want to startle Charlie.


End file.
